The Shadow of Surveillance: How Milton’s Residency Checks Reveal Deeper Inequities
There’s something deeply unsettling about the way Milton, Massachusetts, enforces its school residency policies. On the surface, it’s a bureaucratic process—ensuring that only local students attend local schools. But dig a little deeper, and you’ll find a system that disproportionately targets Black students, raising questions about equity, racial bias, and the role of law enforcement in education.
The Numbers Don’t Lie—But They Only Tell Part of the Story
Let’s start with the facts, because they’re staggering. In the 2024 school year, Black students accounted for 12 out of 15 investigated at Tucker Elementary, despite making up less than 12% of the district’s enrollment. Across Milton, nearly half of the students investigated were Black. What’s more, over half of those expelled for residency issues were Black. These aren’t just statistics; they’re a glaring red flag.
Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating—and troubling—is how these numbers reflect a broader pattern. It’s not just about who’s being investigated; it’s about how they’re being investigated. Milton employs police officers to conduct surveillance, including home visits where they inspect students’ bedrooms. Imagine being a child and having a police officer show up at your doorstep to verify where you sleep. It’s not just invasive—it’s dehumanizing.
What many people don’t realize is that this practice is almost unheard of in neighboring districts. Officials from seven other local school systems confirmed they don’t use police for residency checks. So why does Milton? Is it about efficiency, or is it about something else?
The Human Cost of Bureaucracy
One thing that immediately stands out is the emotional toll this takes on families. Take the story of a Black mother who spoke anonymously, fearing retaliation. She described a police officer in full uniform arriving in a marked cruiser to inspect her son’s bedroom. The visit lasted less than five minutes, but the intimidation lingered. “You feel almost like you’re a criminal,” she said.
From my perspective, this isn’t just about enforcing rules—it’s about power dynamics. When a police officer shows up at your door, even if they’re not in uniform, the message is clear: comply or face consequences. For Black families, this echoes a long history of surveillance and criminalization. It’s not just about residency; it’s about who belongs and who doesn’t.
The System’s Blind Spots—Or Are They?
Interim Superintendent John Phelan insists the district doesn’t target families based on race. But here’s where it gets interesting: since Phelan took over, the district stopped tracking the race of students investigated. On one hand, this could be an attempt to avoid bias. On the other, it makes it impossible to assess whether the system is equitable.
What this really suggests is a deeper reluctance to confront the issue head-on. If you take a step back and think about it, stopping data collection doesn’t solve the problem—it just hides it. Better data collection is a start, but it’s not enough. We need to ask: Why are Black students being scrutinized at such disproportionate rates in the first place?
The Broader Context: Race, Class, and Education
Milton’s practices don’t exist in a vacuum. The town is known for its high-performing schools, which attract families from all over. But unlike neighboring communities like Newton and Wellesley, Milton doesn’t participate in the Metco program, which buses Boston students to suburban schools. This raises a deeper question: Is Milton’s residency enforcement a way to maintain its exclusivity?
In my opinion, this is where race and class intersect. Black families in Milton often live near the Mattapan border, an area that’s historically been under greater scrutiny. It’s not just about residency—it’s about who gets to access quality education and who doesn’t.
What’s Next?
Milton plans to introduce new software to match student addresses against public records. While this might streamline the process, it doesn’t address the underlying issues. Personally, I think the district needs to do more than just tweak its methods. It needs to reevaluate its entire approach to residency enforcement.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the role of school resource officers. Police Chief John King claims they don’t use police equipment or uniforms for residency checks, but parents’ accounts suggest otherwise. This discrepancy highlights a lack of transparency—and trust.
Final Thoughts
If you ask me, Milton’s residency checks are a symptom of a larger problem: a system that prioritizes exclusivity over equity. Black students and families aren’t just being investigated—they’re being sent a message. And that message is loud and clear: you don’t belong here.
What this really suggests is that we need to rethink how we define community and who gets to be a part of it. Education should be a great equalizer, not a tool for exclusion. Until Milton—and districts like it—confront their biases, the shadow of surveillance will continue to loom over Black students.
